


'Tis the Season for Conspiracies

by Reader115



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blade of Marmora Lance (Voltron), Christmas Fluff, Christmas love drug, Divergent as in Lance and Allura never dated and Lance is not a post-Voltron farmer, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Klance rom com, M/M, Post-Canon, Winter Tropes, canon-divergent, christmas tropes, tropes tropes tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22241821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reader115/pseuds/Reader115
Summary: While on a relief mission, Keith insists on several Christmastime traditions after he’s hit by an alien substance that seems to have made him fall in love with Christmas
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 375





	'Tis the Season for Conspiracies

Cold fear. Anxiousness. Anger. Slight amusement. 

And now... Confusion. 

It was a lot of emotions for a single day. 

To be fair, Keith Kogane has that effect on him on any given day. 

* * *

“Ow,” Keith said, his flat tone a strange contrast to the continued wonder and admiration in his expression. “What was that for?” 

“I’m checking for abnormalities,” Pidge replied, eyes narrowed as she scanned the sample she’d just drawn from Keith. 

“Acxa said they hit you with something when you landed.” Lance leaned to the side to try to gain Keith’s attention. Keith tilted his head so he could still see the spectacle behind Lance. “What kind of substance was it? Do you remember if it had a particular scent? Did you feel dizzy afterwards?” 

“Lance, look.” 

And it's not that Lance is _against_ the parade that has captured Keith’s attention, it's just that Keith has repeated ‘ _Lance, look_ ’ in that same awed tone at least sixteen times since he and Pidge had found Keith and Acxa on this planet. 

_Lance has looked_ , and their surroundings _are_ very beautiful. Christmas lights strung up on every building and every lamp post. Wreaths with red ribbon everywhere. Snow blanketing everything. He even swears he can hear instrumental music _coming from somewhere_ that sounds strangely identical to the Christmas music he would hear on Earth. There’s also a grand clock in the center of the main street building, although it appears to be counting _down_ instead of counting time. 

And the inhabitants of this planet, quite a few of whom are dancing past them in this parade... Well, they’re all tiny and have pointed ears and rosy cheeks and dress in the same manner as a stereotypical elf in any Earth Christmas movie... 

Plus, their leader (or president or king or grand supreme leader — Lance doesn’t know the politics of this planet yet, he wasn’t supposed to be here at all; he only knows the place is called Lomonosov) is a big guy with a white beard who is wearing a red suit... 

It was a lot to take in at once, so he focused back on his first priority, which was that Acxa had called for back-up on this relief mission because she said as soon as they’d disembarked from their ship earlier, the Lomonosovians had hit Keith with a substance and Keith had been acting oddly ever since. 

So. Cue the earlier emotions of cold fear that something had happened to Keith, anxiousness until he could reach Keith’s side, anger when he suspected Acxa was pulling a prank when Keith appeared fine (Veronica has made _some_ progress with Acxa, so it’s not so far out of realm to think she’s learned how to joke), the slight amusement at Keith’s trance-like state as he watches the Lomonosovians (elves?) dance in a parade, and now confusion because this didn’t appear to be a joke and _Keith was still very much into the dancing elves._

Plus, Keith hadn't even really asked why Lance and Pidge were _here_ instead of on the neighboring planet where they were supposed to be running a separate relief mission. 

“Lance, update?” Shiro’s voice rang from his suit communicator. 

“We’ve got Keith right here,” he said with a sigh. His shoulders relaxed, the adrenalin from earlier draining from his system since this didn’t appear to be an actual crisis. 

The downside to letting himself relax and breathe was that his body seemed to realize he was on a planet covered in icy winter and he had left his gloves and hood on the ship, leaving his head and hands without any real protection from the frigid temperature. He began to shiver almost immediately and rubbed his hands together to stave off the pain that comes with frozen fingers. 

“And?” Shiro prompted. 

“He’s, uh, I mean, he’s a little off.” 

“I’m not _off_ ,” Keith frowned. It was the closest _Keith-face_ Lance had seen since they arrived. 

“Keith,” Shiro called out, “you okay, bud?” 

Keith rolled his eyes, another familiar sight. “Shiro,” Keith said, the slightly awed tone back as he spoke, “it's like Santa’s village here. Remember that place you took me the first year we met? Like that, only cooler.” 

Then Keith snorted and when Lance raised an eyebrow in question, Keith smiled a wide grin and repeated himself. “ _Cooler_. Get it? Because its cold.” 

Lance stared blankly at Keith while Keith snorted again at his own pun. 

“Shiro, _see_??” Lance said, voice high-pitched and slightly frantic, attracting the attention of a few of the locals standing near them on the parade sidelines. 

“Pidge, anything from your studies?” Shiro asked. 

“No,” Pidge tucked her tablet away. “Absolutely nothing in the readings. Whatever it is hasn’t left a readable trace. Pretty high tech for a planet that...” Pidge glanced around, “while adorable, doesn’t appear to be the most high tech.” 

“But he’s okay?” Shiro asked. 

“Yes,” Keith replied at the same time that Lance said, “Not exactly.” 

There was a pause before Shiro spoke again. “Lance and Pidge, you two stay with Keith and his team. I’ll send replacements over to your original assignment. We still want to finish touching base with all these planets while we’re in this system. If you think his health is in danger at any point —” 

“It won’t be,” Keith interjected with a familiar sour look on his face before it was replaced with a small smile. “We’re basically chilling in the North Pole.” Another snort as he looked to Lance. “Chilling.” 

Keith then pulled both of Lance’s hands into his own and began rubbing some heat into them. A breath stuttered out of Lance as his eyes widened. And he made an actual choking sound as Keith lifted Lance’s hands to his mouth to blow warm air over his fingers. 

“Lance?” Shiro called out. 

“Yeah. Here,” Lance managed, voice only slightly strangled. 

“Just, if you get worried, bring him back,” Shiro finished. 

Pidge chuckled as she watched the two of them. “Will do,” she responded for them. 

“You need some gear,” Keith said suddenly, before pulling Lance away from the parade and down a sidewalk, one hand still captured within his own. 

“I’ll probably need gear, too,” Pidge muttered as she rubbed her own hands together and stomped through the snow after them. 

* * *

Lance had hoped that _gear_ would include some arctic level of protection against the cold. But Keith had tugged him into a nearby shop (easy to tug because he was still holding Lance’s hand). Lance stalled at the entrance, however, and Keith dropped his hand as he continued. Pidge ditched them both and disappeared into the racks. 

“Lance, these?” Keith asked, lifting a pair of knitted mittens from a display to show him. 

Lance’s eyes slowly roved over the merchandise. First, everything was knitted. Second, everything was either green, red, or white. Third, everything was covered in a Christmas or winter-themed design. 

Lance squinted at the red with white snowflake covered mittens Keith had chosen for him and then squinted at Keith’s face. Keith looked – happy? Hopeful? Eyes definitely gleaming as he watched for approval from Lance. 

“You know, we have real winter gear on our ship. I can just run out to -” 

“That stuff wont blend in here,” Keith said with a head shake. 

Lance finally took a few steps into the little shop, mainly so he could lean in towards Keith to quietly murmur, “You realize we’re about four feet taller than the majority of the locals, right?” he asked with a grin. “We’re not blending in.” 

“No, I meant blend in, like, with the — the _aesthetic_ of the planet.” 

Lance gawked at him. “The _aesthetic_? Either they hit you with some strong personality-altering drug or you’re just flat out fucking with me. Which —” 

Immediately one of Keith’s hands covered Lance’s mouth as his eyes darted frantically around the small shop. 

“ _Lance,_ ” Keith hissed, finally meeting his eyes again, “you can't _swear_ here! What if _he_ hears you?” 

He pulled Keith’s hand from his mouth with a frown. “ _Who_?” 

Keith leaned in closer to whisper, “Santa.” 

“Pidge!” Lance shouted, frantic once again. “You’re sure you didn’t see anything in his bloodwork?” he asked when Pidge appeared next to them, head covered in a white hat with red reindeer. 

“Not a thing,” she answered. “Plus, there is a guy out there who looks like Santa, so...” Pidge added with an unconcerned shrug. 

Keith rolled his eyes again. “I’m _fine_. Here, you big baby, try these on. They're fleece-lined inside. You'll be warm. The locals are clearly experts on how not to freeze.” 

He forced one mitten on one of Lance’s hands, and Lance had to admit, they were very warm. 

“There’s a hat to match,” Keith said as he pulled said hat down over Lance’s ears before he could protest. “And they have winter jackets here, too, if your suit isn’t warm enough, although the Blade suits are designed to regulate for external temperature —” 

“The suit is okay,” Lance interjected. “Doing its job, there.” 

He couldn’t deny the small thrill he felt as he watched Keith’s eyes dip from his face to travel down the line of his body in his Blade armor. He’d be lying if he said he’d never noticed Keith subtly checking hm out in the suit before. 

(Keith seemed to be a leg man.) 

(And it wasn’t like Lance had never admired Keith in the suit. Even with Keith’s armor upgrade, the suit still wrapped around the back of Keith the same as it did before.) 

He shifted his weight to one hip and watched Keith’s eyes track the movement. He had loved his paladin armor, but the Blade armor was way more comfortable. He never wore the mask, but the hood could be fun. Way better than the boring Garrison uniform he’d been issued when they’d first returned to Earth. He may have been half joking when he’d asked Keith (during a card night with him, Shiro, and Adam) what he’d have to do to trade his Garrison uniform in for BoM armor, but Keith had knocked on his Atlas bedroom door the next day, new Blade suit in hand and an invitation to join him on that day’s relief mission. 

That was a few phoebs ago and Lance had basically joined Keith’s team, heading out with them on planet exploration and relief trips as they arose. The threat of war no longer loomed over their heads and he got to explore space with his best friends. He’d honestly never been happier. 

“Yeah,” Keith finally uttered, voice slightly raspier and face slightly pinker than usual. “Suit’s good.” His eyes finally made it back to Lance’s. “We just need to keep your ears and fingers safe in the cold.” 

Lance nodded slowly, heat flooding his own face from the attention. “Okay. These work then.” Keith wanted him to wear sweetly knitted Christmas-themed hat and mittens? Then he’d wear them. “Uh,” after a quick glance at Keith’s own hands (Keith had remembered his own gloves for the cold temps) “here, you’ll need a hat, too.” He pulled a hat that matched his own over Keith’s head and smiled at the way Keith blinked in surprise. 

But then. _But then._ Keith looked up at Lance through his lashes, red hat pulled over his ears, braided hair swung over one shoulder. “Look okay?” Keith questioned quietly. 

He knew his smile was more fond than normal, but he let it pull his lips wide anyway. “Yeah, you’ve always looked good in red.” 

Then he enjoyed the pretty shade of red that immediately traveled up Keith’s neck and covered his face. 

Pidge glanced between the two of them with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, well, I'm still going to need a coat. I'll meet you two at the front.” 

* * *

“We’re going to miss it,” Keith said, tugging Lance along behind him, Lance’s hand tucked into Keith’s. Lance had grabbed Pidge’s hand at the store exit and the three of them made a small train through the crowd. 

“What are we going to miss?” Pidge asked. 

“He won’t say,” Lance responded before running into Keith’s back when he abruptly stopped. 

“The locals are quite excited about this,” Acxa said as she appeared next to them, startling Lance. “They said it is a tree lighting? Are they going to set it ablaze?” she asked Keith directly. “Is that why you look so excited? Or are you still under the influence?” 

“Did you find Zethrid and Ezor yet?” Keith asked instead of answering her question, while also ignoring Lance and Pidge chuckling about it. 

“Wait, wait, Keith, were you making sure we were on time for a _tree lighting ceremony_?” Pidge asked. 

“Yes, they are across the street,” Acxa pointed while Keith continued to ignore Lance and Pidge. “Something about this place has them acting more annoying than usual. Please do not leave me alone with them again.” 

Lance searched through the crowd for the other two members of Keith’s team, found easily since they towered over the locals. They had their arms wrapped around each other, and Zethrid’s head tipped back as she laughed at something that Ezor was whispering in her ear. 

“Why shouldn’t we leave you alone with them?” Lance asked, unsure of the problem. 

“Acxa doesn’t like PDA,” Keith said. 

“Also,” Acxa added, “they said that if we are staying through the sleep cycle, then they _‘call the ship_ ’. If that means what I think it means, then I refuse to stay there with them.” 

“Yeah, agreed,” Keith said as he shared an eyeroll with her. “We’ll find other accommodations.” 

“I’ll work on that while you watch the tree fire,” Acxa said. “Oh, they also have a table over there with hot chocolate— 

“Hot chocolate?” PIdge asked. 

“— but it’s a liquid. I thought it would be a spicy version of the chocolate you brought from Earth and hide on our ship.” 

“I _knew_ it was you who was getting into my chocolate stash on the ship!” Keith exclaimed. 

“Acxa, I’m gonna need you to take me to the hot chocolate table immediately,” Pidge said, pulling Acxa away by an arm while Keith continued to glare at her. 

“You have a chocolate stash on your ship?” Lance asked, 

“No.” 

“Uh huh. We'll see about that.” 

“No!” 

“So why don’t you two want to sleep on the ship tonight with Z and E?” Lance asked with a knowing laugh. 

Lance had been on quite a few missions with Keith and his team, but never overnight. He _was_ supposed to be with them on this trip, but Matt had been called away for something, and Pidge had asked Lance to take his place with her on the neighboring planet trip. She had said she needed someone who could charm the locals into answering her technology questions. Lance didn’t think Pidge gave herself enough credit for her friendly interactions with locals, but he’d been okay with going with her if it meant she didn’t go alone. 

“Zethrid and Ezor are... loud,” Keith grumbled with furrowed brows. 

“No! Wait, I don’t actually want to know!” Lance protested with a shoulder nudge into Keith’s shoulder. 

“You asked!” Keith exclaimed while nudging Lance’s shoulder in return. 

They focused on the podium with the rest of the excited crowd where a small Lomonosovian had everyone’s attention with a speech that Lance couldn’t exactly hear, but then everyone clapped and a man Lance had to assume was _Santa_ walked up to the podium. 

He glanced over to Keith and found that same awed expression from earlier covering his features. “You’re clearly loving all this Christmas stuff,” Lance said quietly. “Although, I can’t tell if that’s due to the alien substance in your system or if you’ve always loved Christmas this much.” 

“And?” 

“ _And_ you’re seriously going to let Acxa think they’re setting this tree on fire?” he asked with a grin. 

“I can only explain to Acxa that not everything is a literal translation so many times in a day,” Keith responded just as quietly as _Santa_ continued his own speech. 

Lance giggled. 

“I’m tempted to pull Veronica onto the team just to have someone else take over with Acxa,” Keith said as he glanced back at Lance. “Plus, I think they’d both just like more time together. What do you think? Would you mind having your sister around more often?” 

Lance hummed at the question and did his best to appear as if he were thinking it over, while internally he enjoyed the warmth and pride he felt anytime Keith asked his opinion on anything. Not just because it made him feel like Keith’s right hand man again, but it also confirmed that Keith really did count him as a member of his Blade Relief Team. 

Not that Lance hated what his new assignment on the Atlas had been. Shiro thought he’d make a good diplomat and they liked to use his personality and former paladin status to make nice with each new planet’s locals. Although, overall it was a lot of talking heads in big meetings (Allura still thrived there, while even Shiro looked bored a lot of the time) and Lance found that he felt like he was doing more good for the universe by being out with Keith and the girls handing out supplies and providing hands-on help. 

Plus, his Atlas job had an _appalling lack of Keith._

He thought about Keith’s suggestion to see if Ronnie wanted to join them more often. While he wouldn’t be opposed to spending more time with his sister, he was surprised that _Keith,_ of all people, seemed to have noticed the mutual crush going on between Ronnie and Acxa... Since Keith didn’t seem to be the type to typically notice crushes. Not that Lance had any particular example in mind... 

He didn’t get to answer Keith, however, because the largest tree Lance had ever seen was suddenly lit in front of them, and while it was beautiful, it was really Keith’s captivated expression and wide smile that captured his attention. The blinking colorful lights played across Keith’s face and when Keith turned to smile at Lance, the lights made his eyes shine. 

Lance shook himself out of it and nudged Keith’s shoulder with a head tilt towards where Acxa and Pidge had gone. “Let’s go get some of that hot chocolate.” 

He didn’t have high hopes for this alien beverage, but when they reached the table and he was handed a warm cupful, the smell had him gulping down what he excitedly realized was _actual_ hot chocolate. 

“Oh, ow!” Lance stuck his tongue out after immediately burning it (who can wait for it to cool when its _real_ hot chocolate?) and was treated to Keith spraying whipped cream in his mouth like a fire extinguisher, all while laughing his ass off, and Lance briefly thought it was worth it to see Keith laugh so freely. 

Zethrid and Ezor found them and dragged them to another table because they were told they could make some socks. Lance had the pleasure of explaining the concept of stockings to them, which led to explaining about Santa himself (and pointing the dude out — he was wandering the festival and had waved at them). 

When he turned his attention back to Keith, he found that Keith had already decorated two stockings with felt wreaths and holly and was currently overseeing an elderly local who had already stitched Lance’s name near the mouth of one and was currently stitching Keith’s name into the top of the second. 

They wandered back to the tree where they were offered ornaments from another local, and then they both took a ridiculous amount of time arguing as they tried to find the perfect location for the pair of them. 

After hanging his ornament, Lance glanced down at the presents that were already piling up beneath the tree, and froze when he spotted two familiar names. He fell into a crouch and ran his fingers over the pretty nametags that read _Nadia_ and _Silvio_. What were the chances there were two Lomonosovians here with those names? Or that the presents would be situated next to each other under the tree? 

“Ah, pretty,” Acxa said with a nod, startling Lance once again as she appeared next to them. “Frivolous but excellent use of lights.” 

“Christmas lights are never frivolous,” Keith told her with a serious tone as Lance rose to stand again. 

“The locals agree with you,” Acxa said as she glanced around at the lights covering all the nearby buildings and trees. She glanced towards Lance. “Does your sister enjoy this sort of festivity?” 

Lance shrugged. “Yeah, Rachel loves Christmas.” He glanced at Keith briefly, just to see the smirk he knew Keith would be fighting, before turning his own _purely innocent_ grin back to Acxa. 

Acxa appeared lost before she turned a glare towards the ground. The only other tell that she was frustrated was the way the toe of her boot nudged at some nearby snow. 

“No, I meant your other sister. Veronica. Ronnie? Does she like this sort of thing?” She waved a hand towards their surroundings. 

“Oh, Roooonnnie,” Lance said, overplaying his obliviousness, not that Acxa noticed. “Probably not. She’s pretty boring, ya know?” 

Now Acxa’s glare was directed right at Lance. “She is not boring,” Acxa insisted. “She has entertained the Atlas bridge with many stories from her Cuban upbringing —” 

“Wait, what stories?” Lance demanded. 

“Yeah, what stories?” Keith repeated with a devilish grin. “Did she tell everyone about how Lance refused to wear a bathing suit when they’d go to the beach until he was, like, seven?” 

Lance gasped as he felt his face begin to burn. 

Acxa nodded. “Many of her beach photos do seem to include naked Lance.” 

“ _She did not share those!_ ” Lance screeched. 

“She also said she is the funniest McClain,” Acxa added. 

“ _She is the least funny out of all five of us_!” Lance yelled. “And that’s with Marco and his dumb golf hobby. She’s even less interesting than that!” 

Acxa turned to Keith. “Did I do that correctly?” 

Lance finally noticed Keith bent at the waist, laughing so hard he was hardly making any noise at all, hand squeezing his own side as if he had a stitch. Keith helped himself stand upright again by leaning a hand on one of Lance’s shoulders as he nodded. 

“Yes,” Keith added, still having a hard time with basic speech as he wiped as at his eyes. “That’s deadpan humor. Nice job.” 

A sincere smile cross Acxa’s face briefly. “Thank you for letting me practice, Lance.” 

“Wait, was _all_ of that a joke?” he demanded. 

“I am going to assume you were also teasing me” Acxa said in response, “and that Ronnie _would_ appreciate this sort of event.” 

Lance crossed his arms over his chest and refused to answer her before whirling on Keith. “How did you know about the bathing suit thing?” 

Keith grinned. “Your mom.” 

“Why would she tell you that!” He was aware that his voice was close to a whine. He was the baby of five siblings; he expected the older ones to tell embarrassing stories about him — he could dish out plenty of embarrassing stories about all of them as well. But his own mother? _The betrayal._

“I had no idea you could blush this hard,” Keith said as he continued to grin at him. 

“The local inn didn’t have many vacancies,” Acxa said, saving Lance from having to reply to Keith, “but I was sure you two wouldn’t mind sharing.” 

“Sharing a room?” Keith asked as he accepted a key from her. 

“And a bed,” Acxa added. “I’ve already given Pidge her own room key. I’ll see you both in the morning.” 

Lance was _not_ going to blush harder at the thought of sharing a bed with Keith. They’d been on plenty of Voltron- and Garrison-related trips together where they had to bunk together. Maybe not in the same bed. But in the same vicinity. He’s seen Keith sleep. There’s nothing special about it. 

(He has this adorable way of burrowing his face into a pillow when sleepy that should just be flat out illegal.) 

“So, why did Acxa think we’d be okay with sharing a bed?” Lance asked. He’d waited till they made it into their room, but the question was out of his mouth before the door was even shut all the way. 

Keith eyed him with a head tilt and slightly confused expression for a moment before saying, “Because we’re dating?” 

Lance sucked in a breath while his heart also fluttered wildly. Keith had phrased it as a question but he was clearing indicating this was something _Lance should already know._

Lance dropped his bag where he stood. “Dating?” 

“Boyfriends share beds?” Keith continued, waving a hand towards the only bed in the room. “I know _we_ haven’t yet, but I think it’d be okay?” 

“ _Since when are we dating?_ ” Lance screeched. 

Keith, the unflappable bastard, appeared unaffected by the high pitch. “Since you accepted the Blade armor I gave you?” 

“ _How is that a thing?"_

“It’s standard courting procedure for the Marmora,” Keith continued in a flat tone, as if he had explained this to Lance several times — _which he had not._ “I offered you a set of armor, you accepted, and the courting begun.” 

Lance blinked. _Keith thought they had been dating this entire time?_ He’d certainly wasn’t... opposed. But. It seemed like the sort of thing he should know about! 

Oh, and how was Keith going to feel, now that he realized _Lance hadn’t even known they’d been dating?_ Lance didn’t want Keith to feel embarrassed. Or even worse, rejected... 

Damn Marmora and their weird customs. 

He lifted his eyes back to Keith, mouth open, ready to try to save... 

Wait. 

The jerk was fighting a smile. Mouth honest-to-goodness twitching as he bit his lips to try to hide it from Lance. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Lance stated plainly. 

He finally got a real reaction out of Keith — an actual squawk as he charged and tackled Keith onto the bed. He landed hard on top of Keith, and did his best to glare, although it was admittedly difficult as he watched Keith laugh beneath him. Eyes scrunched tightly shut. Nose wrinkled adorably. Mouth open wide with loud chuckles. 

“It’s really not my fault you believe _anything_ I say about Marmoran customs,” Keith gasped between his outright chortles. 

“Such a jackass,” Lance grumped as he rolled off Keith and glared at the ceiling. “You’re only my best friend and go-to Galra. I _should_ be able to trust you. Instead —” 

“Remember when I told you that —” 

“Stop. Stop right there.” 

“You were actually going to wear —” 

“ _Stop_.” 

Keith stopped talking, but he continued to laugh lightly. 

Lance enjoyed the sound for just a moment before pushing himself up on an elbow so he could glare at Keith. “This was actually believable! You’ve been holding my hand practically since I arrived!” 

Keith pushed up on an elbow to match him, small smile the only remaining evidence of his laugh fest. “Your hands were cold,” he said with a half shrug. “And you didn’t take your hand back.” 

The heart fluttering from before was back. But he outwardly narrowed his eyes at Keith. “What _did_ they expose you to when you landed?” 

Keith huffed a breath and shook his head. “Nothing bad.” 

“Dude, why are you being less than helpful in identifying this substance? You know Pidge will be interviewing the locals in the morning, if she didn’t start at the festival tonight.” 

“Because I'm fine. Although...” He glanced around their room. “I don’t think we can sleep in here with this room like this.” 

Lance glanced around as well. Aside from the wallpaper that looked like actual wrapping paper and the bedposts that looked like candy canes, the room was pretty standard for a hotel. Unless Keith was actually opposed to sharing a bed? 

“Come on.” Keith pushed himself to stand from the bed. “Grab your cute hat and mittens.” 

“Keeeeith, it’s so cold out there, my dude.” 

But when Keith simply left the room without another word, Lance hopped up and scampered after him. 

* * *

“All clear?” 

Keith sighed dramatically and Lance laughed quietly. 

After all, Keith was the one who’d dragged him into the forest. And Keith was the one who couldn’t decide which tree he wanted while Lance stood in air so cold it hurt his nose on every inhale. 

And when Lance had pointed out that they didn’t have a saw, Keith was the one who looked ridiculously hot as he activated his blade and cut down their little tree by himself. 

So. Screw Keith if he didn’t want to play along with Lance as they snuck the tree into the inn and upstairs to their room. 

One more hallway and an extremely accurate rendition of the _Mission Impossible_ theme song later and they finally shoved the tree through their doorway. 

“Uh, Keith? We don’t have a tree stand?” 

“The magic of Christmas will keep it upright.” 

“How are you saying that with a straight face?” 

“I don’t have a straight face.” 

Lance reached around the tree to shove him and the tree fell to the ground. 

In the end, they propped it up in the corner of the room and then stood back to admire it. 

“I hope there’s no wildlife in there,” Lance said, breaking the quiet mood of the room. 

Keith snorted. “Did you have real trees growing up?” 

Lance shook his head. “Not a lot of Christmas-y tree lots where I grew up. They imported some, but my parents always preferred a fake one. Less maintenance, I guess. I mean, I may have been a perfect kid, but they still had four others to keep in line.” 

He was joking, but when he glanced over at Keith, he just found Keith staring wistfully up at the tree. 

“What about you?” He nudged Keith with his elbow. “Real or fake trees?” 

“This is my first real one,” Keith replied softly. 

Lance glanced at their tree again. It looked sorta sad, all bare and leaning against the wall for support. “If we’re here long enough, we’ll have to find some lights and ornaments.” 

That earned him a wide smile from Keith, complete with eye contact filled with gratitude. He wasn’t sure what was currently in Keith’s system, but Lance needed to remind himself that his friend was being affected by a foreign substance. 

A Christmas-loving foreign substance. 

Their lives were odd. 

* * *

He came out of the bathroom after preparing for bed and found Keith crouched in front of the fireplace, feeding an impressive fire. The stockings Keith had made earlier with their names on them hung from the mantle. 

Oh, and Keith was wearing Christmas-themed pajamas (where had he even gotten those?) with his hair loose around his shoulders. Lance was unprepared for the level of cute. Did Keith enjoy assaulting him with adorableness? Was he doing this on purpose? Lance opened his mouth to say something. Anything to try to prevent future attacks. 

What came out was, “That tree really makes the room smell nice, huh?” 

Keith nodded as he stood, the hem of his shirt rising and exposing some skin as he lifted his arms to yawn ( _yet another personal attack to Lance’s sanity, Jesus Christ)_ before he climbed into the bed, claiming the side closest to the door, which was fine with Lance, who crawled under the blanket on other side and forced his eyes elsewhere. 

He sat himself up against the headboard, not quite ready for sleep. “Is there any actual, like, relief mission-y stuff that needs to happen on this planet tomorrow?” 

“Gotta make sure Christmas isn’t in trouble,” Keith muttered from where his face was pressed into his pillow. “Be on the lookout.” 

Lance sighed. “Please tell me you’re kidding.” 

“Why would I be kidding? Christmas is important for universal peace, Lance.” 

Lance squinted at him, head tilted as he did his best to see if Keith was trying to hide a smile in his pillow. 

Keith raised the one eyebrow visible to Lance after a few moments under scrutiny. 

“Look,” Lance said, raising his hands in a placating manner, “I'm just saying that you’re not quite acting like the grumpy space cat that we all know and —” 

“Space cat?” Keith sat up, confusion clear on his face. 

“Oh, have I not called you that one to your face yet?” 

Keith scowled at him. “You know my mom! Yes, she has pointy ears, but —” 

“Cute, cat-like pointy ears.” 

“She's not even... furry!” Keith exclaimed in a way that told Lance it was practically painful for him to even have to say that final word. 

Lance could only laugh at his exasperation before continuing in a mock of Keith's voice, “We need to make sure Christmas is safe?” Incredulity clear in his voice. “I’m just saying that you’re not quite yourself. We need to figure out what the locals put in your system —” 

“You think I’m acting under the influence of a... Christmas love drug?” Keith asked slowly. 

Lance nodded. 

Keith smirked. “For someone who made fun of my conspiracy board —” 

“Because it _was_ weird, Keith.” 

“It led us to the blue lion! Anyway. Sounds like you’ve got your own conspiracy theory going on here, Lance.” 

Lance huffed and scooted himself down the bed so he could lie down with this back to Keith. “This is the thanks I get for being worried about you.” 

“I bet there’s a ton of red string around here.” 

Lance couldn’t resist. He could hear the smile in Keith’s voice. He turned his head to send Keith a questioning look. 

“For your Christmas love drug conspiracy board,” Keith whispered as he resettled on the bed. 

“ _Ay por dios,_ I'm gonna let the little elves have you.” Lance rolled to his back and straightened the blanket into place. 

“No, you won’t,” Keith said, the self-assured tone one that Lance wished he could regularly pull off the way Keith did. 

He glanced over when he heard his next sigh echoed by Keith to find Keith already fast asleep. The fire crackled nearby, throwing a warm orange light over Keith. He was curled on his side, one hand tucked under his chin while the other lay on the space between them, almost as if Keith had been reaching for him. 

“You’re really unfair,” Lance whispered to him before closing his own eyes for sleep. 

* * *

If Keith looking adorable while asleep was a little unfair to Lance the night before, waking up with Keith curled into Lance — head heavy on Lance’s shoulder, body pressed along Lance’s side, and leg thrown over Lance’s legs — was incredibly unfair. 

Especially with the way Keith’s bangs were falling over his forehead and with the way Keith’s one hand was resting on Lance’s stomach. 

Plus, he was still in those Christmas-themed pajamas, making him appear even softer. 

Lance gently lifted Keith’s hand from his stomach, deciding to try to slide himself out from under octopus Keith, but it was enough to rustle Keith, who threaded their fingers together and pressed himself even closer to Lance, face now pressed into Lance’s neck. 

“Keeeith,” Lance whispered as he considered the pros and cons of sleeping out in the snow if they spent another night here. 

“Laaance,” Keith groaned in response, mouth practically pressed to the skin of Lance’s neck — _which was apparently really fucking sensitive if his full body shiver in response meant anything._ Keith pressed himself closer in response, as if he thought the shiver was because Lance was cold. 

Stupid, considerate Keith. 

Lance stilled directly after that, however, because that was definitely _his_ name Keith had just said ( _groaned_ really, but not the part that should have his current focus). Saying (groaning) Lance’s name meant Keith had to know he was curled up with _Lance_ (and not, like, Kosmo), even if Keith was still half asleep. 

“Keith?” Lance whispered again. He wondered if he should say something. Like, maybe point out the way they were cuddled together in a way they never had before. 

Keith hummed in response. 

What came out of his mouth was: “Will you let me braid your hair for today?” 

“Yeah,” Keith murmured. 

“Cool. Cool. I’m gonna head to the bathroom.” 

There was a small grunt from Keith’s throat and then he rolled off Lance and smooshed his face into his own pillow. 

Lance only glanced back to stare at sleepy Keith once as he walked away from their rumpled bed. 

* * *

They’d barely made it out of the inn before Acxa and Pidge found them and insisted they follow them. They trailed through a well-worn, snow-covered forest path before reaching a clearing. 

“Keith, _knife shoes_ ,” Acxa proudly exclaimed — honestly the most excited Lance had ever seen her. About anything. 

“Ice skates,” Pidge articulated, as if she had had already had this conversation with Acxa. “Come on, they’re handing out skates over here.” 

Lance warily eyed the ice as he followed. It was a frozen pond, plenty of Lomonosovians already out there skating, and they’d likely know if it was safe, right? 

He leisurely put his skates on, and hung back as he watched Keith, Acxa, and Pidge slowly, but determinedly, take to the ice. Pidge wobbled and fell. But she stood up quickly and began taking smaller steps, almost as if she was just walking across the ice. It certainly wasn’t the beautiful glide of the nearby locals, but it was efficient enough. She wasn’t immediately falling again. 

Then there was Keith and Acxa. Both slid their feet forward a few slow inches, glanced at each other, and then _took off like they were born with knife shoes attached to their feet._ They were halfway across the pond, likely racing each other, before Lance even put his first bladed foot on the ice. 

He decided to learn from Pidge, and just attempted to move his feet forward as if he were walking, but one leg soon shot off in its own direction and his arms windmilled as he flailed. He cringed, thinking of how hard he was about to land on the ice, when another set of arms swooped around his middle and caught him. 

“I’ve never been skating before,” Lance confessed, face still inches from where he had been about to hit the ice. 

Keith only chuckled as he helped Lance stand upright again. “Yeah, I can tell.” 

“If you’ve been holding back some uncoordinated baby giraffe jokes about me, now would probably be the perfect time to drag em out.” 

Keith chuckled again, smile wide as he wrapped his hands around Lance’s elbows and began skating slowly backwards ( _b_ _ackwards! When he’d just put skates on a minute ago_ ) which allowed him to pull Lance along on the ice. 

Keith’s eyes dropped to Lance’s legs. “That’s all muscle in those long legs, Lance. I’ve never thought of them as baby giraffe legs. I’m sure you can get this.” 

Lance promptly fell to the ice. Keith tried to catch him but he didn’t stand a chance. Lance wasn’t falling due to the slickness of the ice or because he tripped over his own feet. His face burned. His brain stopped. His legs no longer remembered how to hold his weight. He was a flustered mess that was now melting all over this nice pond’s frozen surface. 

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith laughed as he tried to get the limp noodle that used to be Lance to stand up again. 

Finally, Lance allowed Keith to pull him to his feet. He mumbled something about one of his skates being too loose, and let Keith help him to a nearby bench where he gratefully sat. 

“I’ll be back to get you when you’re ready,” Keith offered before turning and skating away like a damn pro. 

Lance began to fuss over his laces, deciding to take his good sweet time _rebooting._

“Galra have excellent balance, so you should not feel bad that you are not immediately skating like Keith and myself.” 

He only startled slightly that time as Acxa appeared next to him before refocusing on his skate. He’d accepted her, Zethrid, and Ezor as comrades long ago. He’d even accepted that she likely had a crush on one of his sisters. But it definitely still felt odd to have her try to comfort him. 

They watched Pidge skate smoothly by and he gave Acxa a pointed look. 

“She is small and closer to the ground,” Acxa waved in Pidge’s general direction. “Of course she would also have an easier time.” 

“Well, at least I can partially blame this on the fact that I am once again taller than Keith. That makes me feel slightly better. Thanks for that.” He checked his other skate before standing and then eyed his new nemesis: the ice. 

“He doesn't touch anyone else, you know? Not in the way he reaches for you." Acxa offered. “And he doesn’t _really_ smile” — Acxa looked frustrated for a tic, likely searching for the right words, before turning her attention back to Lance — “like, with his whole face? Unless you’re around.” 

“Oh,” Lance said quietly with a sudden understanding to what Acxa was doing, taking a moment with just the two of them to wingman for Keith. “Okay,” he added with a nod. 

Acxa appeared relieved, although whether it was because Lance understood what she was trying to say or because she could _stop_ trying to say it, he’d never know. 

“You know, Ronnie’s go-to is usually a smirk. She doesn’t really smile with her whole face unless you’re around, either.” 

He left Acxa to do with that what she wanted and took a shaky step back on the ice. He reminded himself that the locals speedily skating around him were elf-height (that whole lower center of gravity thing. Thanks, Acxa) and had likely been skating since the beginning of forever. He did his best not to take any of them out when he fell. 

His motivation for moving faster came when he finally spotted Keith again, speaking somewhat animatedly to another human-sized being. He wobbled a few times but when he finally made it to Keith’s side, it was worth it for the way Keith grabbed his arm to steady him. 

“Lance, this is _Jack Frost,_ ” Keith practically gushed as he introduced him to the striking young man – boyishly handsome face, white hair, head and fingers bare to the elements because apparently Lance was being introduced to a man who embodied winter. Who _created_ winter. 

“Wow, it's nice to meet you.” Lance offered a hand and didn’t miss the extra zing of cold he felt through his mittens when Jack returned the handshake. 

“I was just asking him if he’s ever seen any yetis —” 

“Of course you were,” Lance sighed. 

“— and he said —” 

“We actually have groups of them up in the Northern Woods,” Jack said to Lance. “I was just offering to take Keith on a scouting mission for them tonight, if you’d be interested?” he directed back to Keith. 

Keith’s eyes widened slightly and Lance did his best not to frown at Jack Frost. He admittedly failed. 

“Not that you’re not also cute,” Jack offered Lance. “But you’re clearly a summer” — he waved a hand in Lance’s general direction — “and I have a thing for winter dudes.” He offered Keith another charming smile. 

“Uh, thanks?” Lance muttered, although he wasn’t really upset that Jack preferred Keith over himself. 

He was a summer. Good call, Jack. 

He was, _however_ , infinitely upset that Jack Frost was putting the moves on Keith two tics after meeting him when Lance himself had spent years befriending Keith, fighting a space war with Keith, earning Keith’s trust, learning Keith’s likes and dislikes. 

And Jack Frost thinks he can just swoop in and offer up good looks, and magical snow abilities, and the promise of mystical creatures... 

Actually, all that seemed right up Keith’s alley. 

Before he could determine if Keith was actually considering the offer, Lance felt Keith’s arm wrap around his waist and pull him close, skates sliding across the ice smoothly with Keith’s strength supporting him, until he was pressed into Keith’s side, his own arm wrapped around Keith's waist in return (...for balance purposes only).

“Sorry,” Keith offered with a shrug, “but Lance and I have plans tonight.” 

“Oh,” Jack eyes darted between the two of them (and Lance was offended that Jack looked so damn surprised), “I see. Well, let me know if you ever do want to go on a yeti hunt.” 

Keith nodded amicably in return as Jack skated away. Then he spun himself around to face Lance, hands now holding both of Lance’s hands (for support).

“Now, let's turn you into a skater.” 

“ _Keith,_ ” Lance stressed his name as he leaned towards him and almost wiped out, saved by Keith holding him up again, “you just turned down a _yeti hunt date with Jack Frost._ ” 

Keith’s brows furrowed, displaying one of Lance’s favorite Keith expressions — the one where he can tell Lance is worked up about _something,_ but he doesn’t understand _what._

“I don’t want to go on a date with Jack Frost. And you and I still have a lot to do today.” 

Lance let himself smile. Let the color rise to his cheeks. Let himself squeeze Keith’s fingers within his own. Refused to melt into the ice again. 

“Besides,” Keith added, “everyone knows groups of yetis are called flurries, something you’d think _Jack Frost_ would know. I'm not convinced he even knows how to hunt a yeti.” 

Lance’s laugh burst out of his chest, forcing him to bend at the waist, knocking him to the ice. 

At least he pulled Keith down with him this time. 

* * *

“Thanks for letting us borrow your kitchen,” Lance offered a cheerful smile to the elvish inn manager. 

“Of course, whatever we can do to make your stay jolly,” she (actually) replied. “I pulled out all the ingredients you should need. And we can offer your final product to the rest of the guests for an afternoon snack.” 

“Well, we should probably do a private taste test when we’re finished before you go offering cookies to anyone else,” Lance joked. “Make sure they’re actually edible.” 

“I’m sure they’ll be delicious,” she offered before offering a small wave and disappearing through the kitchen’s swinging door. 

“Have you ever baked cookies?” Lance asked as he turned to Keith. After all, it was Keith who had asked Lance if he thought they could borrow the inn’s kitchen to bake — not something Lance had been expecting. At all. Ever. 

“No, but” — Keith waved his hands over the ingredients on the counter — “In Christmas movies, they just add some of this stuff to a bowl —” 

“Sorta how cooking works but _not at all_ how baking works.” 

“— and Christmas magic will help with the rest.” 

Lance stared flatly at him. “The sad thing is that we’ve reached the point with the Christmas love drug where I know you’re not kidding about that.” 

“These are _Christmas_ cookies, Lance.” 

Lance stared at him expectedly. 

“Christmas magic.” Keith whispered with a nod as he began moving some of the ingredients around on the counter. 

Lance clapped his hands together. “Okay! Well, I'm going to use Christmas magic’s network to call Hunk.” 

He propped his communicator up on the counter and when Hunk’s face appeared on the screen, Lance didn’t even get a chance to greet Hunk before one of Hunk’s eyes filled the screen. 

“Is that _real_ sugar? Are those _chicken_ eggs? Where are you guys?” 

“North Pole kitchen,” Keith said at the same time that Lance said, “The kitchen of the inn where we’re staying on Lomonosov.” 

“I will disown both of you if you don’t bring me back some of those ingredients,” Hunk declared as he backed away from the camera so they could see his entire face again. 

“I’ll trade you ingredients for some help right now?” Lance offered with a grin. “Do you have a sugar cookie recipe handy?” He lifted a cookie cutter to show Hunk their end goal. 

Hunk’s eyes widened in excitement. He remained on the line and gave them step by step instructions until the dough was made before hanging up to go back to his own projects. Some flour was wasted as they measured when Lance flicked some at Keith (it looked nice against his black hair, sue him). And then more flour was wasted when they both flicked it at each other as they rolled the dough flat for the Christmas (of course) themed cookie cutters that had been left out for them. 

“Why can’t we decorate them?” Keith asked, chin resting in his palm, elbow on the counter as he practically pouted over their fresh out of the oven cookies. 

“Too hot, the icing will melt and then your gingerbread men will look very sad.” 

He smiled as he watched Keith continue to pout before reaching over to the nearby sound system and increasing the volume of the familiar Christmas song. 

“Come here,” he said, feeling brave, remembering Keith pressed against him in bed that morning and earlier on the ice. He grabbed Keith’s hand and pulled him in close. Keith’s eyes dropped to the floor, as if he were suddenly shy, but one corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile. And he certainly didn’t protest, didn’t pull away. 

“What are we doing?” Keith mumbled, even though Lance would think it was pretty obvious by the way he’d dropped his other hand to Keith’s waist and began swaying the two of them, clasped hands held out to the side. 

“My mamá would dance with us in the kitchen whenever we had to wait for something to cool,” Lance murmured, pressing the side of his head to the familiar dark hair on Keith’s head. 

Lance could practically feel Keith’s body relax against him as he rested his head on Lance’s shoulder. Lance moved them in a slow circle, timed well with the _White Christmas_ melody. And when Bing (he swears it is Bing Crosby’s version playing on this alien planet) began to sing, he joined in, the lyrics etched into his memory from a childhood that included the song every year. 

“Your voice is beautiful,” Keith said quietly, free arm wrapped around Lance’s back, palm flat between his shoulder blades, face still tucked into Lance’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine with words breathed against his skin. 

It was as if his nose suddenly forgot how to do its most basic function on the inhale. His breath stuttered and his mouth was forced to drop open to try to help get necessary oxygen but that seemed to only accentuate the fact that his heart had moved to his fucking throat and he began to choke on _literally nothing_ all because Keith said he liked his singing voice. 

That dramatic phrase — _‘So cute I'm gonna die?'_ Fine. it's a real thing. He gets it. 

“Ooooh, look up, guys,” Pidge said, and Lance literally jumped at the new voice in the room. 

He didn’t go far. While Keith lifted his head from Lance’s shoulder, he didn’t otherwise let go, palm pressed gently against Lance's back. Lance glanced at where Pidge stood just inside the kitchen door before he met Keith's eyes, and together their gazes rose to find a sprig of mistletoe hanging above them. 

At this point, given this planet, Lance was surprised they hadn’t ended up under any mistletoe sooner than this. 

He met Keith’s eyes again and enjoyed the pink color that arose on his face while Keith continued to eye the mistletoe above them. Keith’s bangs still looked a little wild from flying across the ice earlier and from the flour that was still caught in some of his strands. 

Lance lifted a hand and rubbed a thumb over the flour that had also landed in one of Keith’s eyebrows. The eyebrow flinched at the action, his eyes shut, his nose crinkled, one side of his mouth lifted. 

Keith was beautiful. Lance didn’t allow himself the time to appreciate it all that often. Certainly not the way he had since he’d landed on this planet. 

Keith’s eyes reopened when Lance removed his thumb, and Lance licked his lips when those violet eyes seemed to focus right on Lance’s mouth. His eyes shut when he realized Keith was getting closer to him. 

But then Keith’s lips were pressed gently against his cheek. Not his mouth. He kept his eyes shut for the duration anyway. He heard the sound of a click, likely Pidge (he had already forgotten she was here) snapping a picture. 

And when Keith pulled his mouth and then body away, he tried not to be disappointed. 

Instead, he directed Keith and Pidge to begin icing the cookies. They were getting decorated now whether they were cooled enough or not. 

* * *

With the precision that Keith had decorated their cookies earlier (“There’s a sprinkle to icing ratio rule?” Lance had asked. “Yes, these are just facts, Lance.”) Lance wasn’t at all surprised at how serious Keith was in creating a perfectly shaped snowman. 

They had entered into a snowman-making contest, so he understood the need for concentration, but Keith was over there with his furrowed eyebrows and tongue peeking out as he carefully added a carrot nose and coal eyes and mouth to their creation. 

“Hey, Keith?” Lance asked as he approached to wrap a scarf around the snowman’s neck, “you want to go pick up some lights and ornaments for our tree after this?” 

Keith beamed at him, but didn’t get a chance to answer before Acxa tackled Keith from the side, sending them both to land in the snow. 

“Lance and Pidge, get down!” Acxa called. 

Lance dropped to the snow while Pidge merely turned from her nearby snowman to see what the fuss was about — just in time to get smacked in the shoulder with a snowball from a nearby Lomonosovian. 

“Snowball fight!” the little elf yelled, before throwing another snowball at Pidge — who finally ducked behind her snowman. 

Lance had to laugh at Acxa’s dramatic reaction to a snowball fight as he began forming snowballs with the snow right in front of him. He wondered if he’d be able to actually surprise Keith with a snowball to the face. 

Pidge appeared quickly from behind her snowman with the same idea, although she threw her snowball creations towards the locals with a laugh. 

“No!” Ezor cried out. “It’s the substance they hit Keith with when we arrived!” 

Lance laughed first — just the thought that Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor had no idea that a snowball fight was not an actual battle. But then he stilled in thought. He ditched his snowball pile and slowly rose to his knees and then his feet, eyes pinned steadily on Keith, who had already pushed himself to his own feet with an inscrutable expression. 

“Wait,” Lance uttered, his own eyebrows knit together. “They hit you with a snowball when you arrived?” 

Keith nodded slowly. 

“You are _not_ under the influence of a Christmas love drug?” 

“I told you I was fine.” 

“But why didn’t you just say that they hit you with a _snowball_ and not some dangerous substance when Acxa first called us?” 

Keith’s expression continued to be veiled, but he shrugged and said, “It got you here.” 

Lance stared wide-eyed. The elation that came with winning a ten thousand-year old space war was _nothing_ compared to how hard his heart was beating now. How weightless he suddenly felt. How crazy those butterflies in his stomach were flapping. How big this moment felt. 

“So,” Lance finally said, “to be super clear, you’re not under the influence of anything right now?” 

Keith appeared a little apprehensive, as if he was expecting Lance to be angry with him, his eyes darting to the snow before rising back to Lance, but he still shook his head. 

Lance strode forward and kissed him, hands cupping his face and head tilted perfectly to capture those pouty lips in a kiss meant to confess and claim and carry them into the next stage. 

Because seriously? Enough was enough. And he’d already spent _enough time not kissing this boy._

If Keith was surprised, he recovered quickly. Hands lifted to cover Lance’s and lips pulled against Lance’s lips, answering Lance’s confession and claim with his own. 

It left him reeling in the best way. 

They didn’t even notice Pidge with her communicator raised nearby, the screen showing live video of Hunk, Shiro, Allura, and Coran all peeking in on this long-overdue moment. 

“Finally,” Keith murmured when they eventually broke apart. “Wasn’t sure what else to do other than throw myself at you.” 

“We’ll try that later,” Lance chuckled. 

* * *

“New conspiracy,” Keith whispered as he nodded ahead of them. “That’s the Grinch.” 

Lance groaned. “Let’s drop the conspiracies. I'm sorry about the conspiracy stuff.” 

Keith laughed, open and happy as he stopped walking and reached over to straighten Lance’s hat. 

“Okay,” he said before nodding ahead of them again, “except I really do think that’s the Grinch.” 

Lance finally looked to where Keith was indicating and threw his hand over his mouth as he gasped. “Holy crow, that’s the Grinch!” 

The green furry Lomonosovian in question suddenly stopped in his tracks, head tilted back in their direction. Before he could fully turn towards them, Keith grabbed Lance around the waist and pulled him into a side alley, laughing the entire time. 

“We need to follow him, but quietly, like actual members of the Blade of Marmora,” Keith said through his laughter. 

He’d pressed Lance’s back against the brick wall. Hands warm against Lance’s waist. His head dropped to Lance’s shoulder as he continued to laugh. 

Lance had to smile. His own arms lifted to wrap around Keith in return. 

“Keith,” he whispered into Keith’s dark hair. “We’re currently on a relief assignment on a North Pole planet, inhabited by elves and Santa Claus, where we’ve done practically every Christmas tradition known to man.” 

Keith lifted his head as Lance spoke, face very close to Lance’s face as he still had Lance boxed into the building behind him (plus Lance was basically still holding Keith in place, too). Lance got a front row seat to Keith’s growing smile as Lance spoke. 

“And?” Keith asked. 

“And we are not following the Grinch!” 

“A relief mission, by definition, provides relief to the inhabitants and _thwarting_ the Grinch —” 

Lance kissed him. It was immediately sweet and homey and _heated_ and Lance realized once again that they should’ve started doing this _eons_ ago. He sucked Keith’s bottom lip into his mouth (and tucked away that the action caused Keith’s hips to stutter against him) before releasing it in order to begin pressing small kisses along Keith’s jawline. 

In his peripheral he saw a green furry individual walk past their hiding spot and he pulled away just to make sure the Grinch was going to keep walking away from them. When he turned back to grin at Keith, he found Keith flushed, but also studying Lance’s face. 

“I didn’t want our first kiss to be forced under mistletoe earlier,” Keith murmured to him, violet eyes meeting Lance’s. 

Lance hummed and offered Keith a nod in understanding and a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. “Good call.” 

“But, uh, I bet,” Keith continued, “that this planet has mistletoe hung everywhere. You want to go on a mistletoe hunt with me?” 

“Sounds like a conspiracy,” Lance chuckled into Keith’s mouth before kissing him again. “I’m in.” 

**Author's Note:**

> It doesn’t look like this planet needs any relief or assistance anyway...
> 
> In naming this planet, I began by trying to find another name for the North Pole. I didn’t find one, but I did learn that the mountainous Lomonosov Ridge runs under the pole...
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr here!](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/reader115)


End file.
